


Sweet Yurochka

by V_Chan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Basically, Child Yuri Plisetsky, Fluff, His Mom is Mean, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Short & Sweet, Tags May Change, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_Chan/pseuds/V_Chan
Summary: In which Yuri is hiding a surprising sweetness under his layers of anger and bitter sarcasm.





	1. Idol

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome reader!
> 
> I'll put it simply: this is my first fanfiction ever, so please, please, please give me a chance!
> 
> I hope you'll like it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri always wanted to be just like Viktor...
    
    
    He had seen it countless times before, and yet he couldn't help but watch.
    
    He would never admit it. Not to Yakov, not to his parents, and _certainly not_ to Viktor himself. But the silver-haired skater had always been his hero. His role model. His inspiration.
    
    He watching him in secret, hiding behind the half-closed door. He'd always watch him skate from afar, studying his every gesture, learning. Maybe Viktor Nikiforov was a prodigy skater, but Yuri Plisetsky was a prodigy at observing.
    
    Viktor stepped off the ice, and Yuri quickly disappeared behind the door. He ran to the changing room, pretending he'd been there all along. A few seconds later, Viktor and Yakov passed in the corridor, talking. Yuri held his breath.
    
    They disappeared into another room, and the blond boy breathed out, his hands trembling. He clenched his fists. Why was he _even_ trembling? He had done nothing wrong.
    
    Slowly, he grew calmer. He bent down to tie his skates.
    
    Yakov appeared in the doorway. "You're not ready yet?" he scowled him. "If you're not ready in the next minute, you can forget practice."
    
    Yuri finished tying his skates in a rush and ran out the door.
    
    Yakov was still there, thankfully. Yuri took his guards off and stepped on the ice.
    
    The routine was demanding, as always. Yuri started off warming up by skating laps. His coach watched from the distance, reprimanding him on his weak crossovers or limp arms. He tried to straighten his posture, but it seemed pointless.
    
    He halted to a stop and got into starting position, already panting from the effort.
    
    The music started. Yuri whirled around, opening his arms wide, and began the complex routine. Three crossovers, a double toe loop. He landed it without a hitch and went on with a graceful flying camel, a sit spin, and a long step sequence. The tricky part of the program was quickly coming up.
    
    He gained speed, then took off for a jump combination. He managed the double salchow, but lost his balance in the landing and fell. He hit the ice painfully, and winced.
    
    He slowly got up and staked over to Yakov. The man furrowed his brows. "Tell me what you did wrong," he said.
    
    Yuri lowered his head, trying to hold back the tears forming in his eyes. "I was too open," he muttered. "My limbs weren't wrapped tight enough around my body. I- I lost speed and..."
    
    He could feel the man's gaze burning on him. " _And_ what?"
    
    Yuri's hands formed fists. "And I fell!" His voice reverberated on the empty rink's walls, high, childish. He hadn't realized he was yelling.
    
    He suddenly felt the urge to turn around and run. To leave this dammed place and never come back.
    
    Yakov's voice brung him back to reality. His tone was softer now, a surprising thing coming from him. "Yes, you fell. So what? Are you going to let _that_ stop you?" Yuri raised his head to look at him, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. There was still a scowl on his coach's face, but... his eyes were shining. Yakov nodded in his direction. "Get over there and start over."
    
    A smile bloomed on Yuri's face. "Okay." He went back to his starting position, ready to redo his program.
    
    Yakov started the music again. Yuri took a deep breath, then began skating.
    
    There was something different about the way he moved that time. He was more careful, he took his time. His routine didn't seem as rushed as usual. And his jumps were cleaner, too.
    
    When he got to the point where he had to do the jump combination, he seemed to gain in confidence. He sped up, the launched himself into the air, landing an almost-perfect double salchow. He quickly followed up with the other jump in the combination, a single loop. After that was a bellman spin and a short step sequence leading to the end of the  program. He knew he could manage those.
    
    The music stopped. Yuri offered his coach a big smile. To his biggest surprise, Yakov clapped, praising him.  
    
    _I'll keep working hard_ , Yuri told himself. _Until I'm better than Viktor._


	2. Flawed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri may be growing desperate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the enormous support on the first chapter! To be honest, I wasn't sure I would continue this story... but you inspired me to!
> 
> Thanks to @ryneisaterriblefan for beta-ing this chapter!

Yuri couldn’t really remember when he stopped smiling.

But he did know _why_.

Nothing came easily to him, besides jumping. At ten years old, he could do triples. At eleven he tried out quadruples.

Yakov didn’t know about that, obviously. His coach had made the rules clear: no quads until he was sixteen. So Yuri had learnt by himself. He had practiced and practiced and practiced until he could land them. Sometimes he stayed at the rink until dawn, falling over and over, failing and failing again, but never giving up. He’d come home late into the night, bruised, muscles sore, and his grandfather would look at him with worry in his eyes. He’d ask him where he’s been and Yuri would avoid the question. The old man couldn’t do much about it— Yuri completely refused to spill the beans.

When the boy got to bed those nights, body aching from the awful treatment he put himself through, he couldn’t help but cry. He couldn’t stop the tears as they rolled down his cheeks, sobbing into his pillow. He cried until his eyes were red, letting out all the frustration he’d been bottling up. And when his eyes finally dried, his skin sticky, his nose running, he felt weak and tired and whole.

It took him a year to land his first quad. A whole year filled with bruises and scratches and tears.

It happened suddenly. For once, the takeoff felt right. And when he had completed his four rotations, when his skate touched the ice, he didn’t fall as he always had.

The landing was sloppy. His knees buckled under him, and he half landed, half slid on the ice. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. His laughter filled the empty rink, bitter, unstoppable. He had made it… he had made it!

He was alone in the dark, the sun long gone under the horizon. Only a few dim lights illuminated the ice, but it felt just right for Yuri’s first victory. Just as he had failed and failed again under the cover of the same darkness, alone, hidden; it felt right that he would make up for it right there and then. It felt right to stare back at the same empty rink that had seen so many of his falls, to show he could make it. He sat there, panting, his thoughts a loud mess. It felt so good, and yet something was holding him back. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do it again anytime soon. Jumps worked like that. He was sad that no one else has seen him do it.

No, he wasn’t, he realized. He wasn’t sad. He was angry. He was angry the world hadn’t seen his victory. He was angry because it wasn’t enough. _Oh God_ it wasn’t. He had barely landed it. Mediocre.

It wasn’t enough because it wasn’t _perfect_.

 

* * *

 

 

Yakov was ruthless a coach. He was well-known for pushing his students to the edge, then further than that. Many broke down and left. But those who didn’t, those who stayed, they won medals.

Yuri was one of the later. Somehow Yakov had seen something in him. He kept telling the boy his routines weren’t perfect, comparing him to the best of the best: Viktor. But must have thought Yuri was good enough because he continued to coach him.

To Yuri, that was horrible a thing. He didn’t want to be just _enough_. He wanted to be better. He wanted to win, to show the world he was worth just as much as anyone else. Better.

He hadn’t. _Not yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty, I have little to no idea where I'm going with this. I hope you'll enjoy the ride, still!
> 
> Meet me on Tumblr: viktuuri-katsudon


	3. Phantoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a look at Yuri's past.  
> Also, Viktor talks.
> 
> *Updated the tags. This is where it earns its warnings. Yuri's mom actions could be perceived as child abuse. Don't read if you don't want to!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @ryneisaterriblefan again for beta-ing!

Viktor watched as Yuri stood up from a particularly hard fall. He knew the boy's eyes were red from rubbing tears off them, and his lip bloody from biting it over and over in frustration. At that point, anyone else would have given up already.

But Yuri turned around and his gaze was like fire.

 

* * *

 

 

_"We're leaving."_

_Yuri rubbed the last of sleep from his eyes, his thoughts still slurred. A hand clasped around his wrist, wrenching him out of bed. "But-"_

_He stared up to his mother's face, to her passionless eyes, to the hard set of her jaw. "I don't have time for your whining," she snapped. Her hand on his wrist was cold— no,_ icy _. Nails bit into his skin, shooting a pang of pain to his still foggy mind, fully waking him up._

_She led him to a small armoire on the other side of the room, and pulled clothes out of it. She almost shoved them in his hands. "Get dressed."_

_To that, she stormed out the door._

_Yuri pulled the clothes on, knowing better than to protest. There had been urgency in her tone, and a pang of guilt hidden behind the roughness. It was as if she didn't want to leave, not_ again _._

_Once dressed, he walked downstairs, trying to ignore the ache in his belly. Somehow, he knew what had happened._

_His mother was waiting by the door, tapping her foot impatiently. She already had a coat on, nothing more than her designer purse for luggage. She stared at Yuri as he pulled his own coat on._

_They they walked out the door, a whirl of freezing wind whipping the hair from their faces as they made their way to the car. Yuri bit down his complains about the cold. Vaguely, he noticed the pain in his mouth as he dug his teeth into his tongue, something slick and warm— was it blood?— flowing out._

_And just like that, they were gone._

Forever _._

 

* * *

 

 

It was easy to forget that Yuri was still just a child. It wasn't because he didn't act like one. Quite the contrary. Yuri's voice was high-pitched, and his tone was demanding. His features were still round and soft— a child's. But somehow it felt to Viktor as if the blond boy was the same age as he. He was more mature than anyone else he knew, and he had seen more of the world than a lot of people will ever see. There was a weariness in his eyes, buried under his fiery attitude.

They had grown closer too, and Yuri's smile didn't seem as soft from up close. Viktor knew for a fact that Yuri had admired him for a long time, but his rinkmate had made it clear a few months earlier that he had outgrown that.

Yuri was not so much of a child anymore, no matter how hard it was for Viktor to realize.

His temper had changed, too. He didn't smile as much as he once did, nor laugh. His tone was rough, his brows furrowed. And his language— was it because of how much time he spent with Yakov? No, even their coach didn't swear as much. Yuri was always angry, and it got Viktor half terrified, half melting because it was just adorable.

Yuri had grown. And Viktor just knew his newfound boldness would get him far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! I'm sick today so I got time to finish it...  
> Anyway, tell me what you think!


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